Who are you and what have you done with my wife?

New Years Eve we took the miss-fitting lingerie back to exchange it for the correct sizes. It turns out the briefs and thong did fit, but the suspended belt and torselette needed to go up one size. And I was right about Her lovely tits being a C-cup, but I guess when you’ve spent 3 decades staring at every cleavage possible (I’m a bad person, I know) that you start to get a sense when a bra fits.
The staff in the little boutique shop were extremely helpful (I shall be emailing them my thanks) and I was pleasantly surprised when my Wife said She really liked the rest of the lingerie they stocked and could see Herself buying more of it. [Cue husband bouncing up and down in his chair with excitement.)
On the way home, our daughter fell asleep in the back of the car, and we joked about both of us loosing weight and wondered whether a long, slow screw burnt more calories than a quick, enthusiastic fuck. We were talking about sex. We were smiling.

And not long after that, the day took a turn for the worse. She mentioned She had stomach ache, and I saw my chances of getting laid slipping away yet again.
Did I mention my balls and prostate had been aching over the last week or so? Well by late afternoon I had had a definite twinge in my right testicle and resolved that another 24hrs would not pass without me ejaculating: before bed I would have a cold and lonely wank in the bathroom.

I can’t remember how it started.
I know I was feeling frustrated and probably a little grumpy.
I know our daughter was snuggled up in bed and we had watched Sunshine, (not a film that lends itself to too much optimism, and certainly no rom com).
I know we couldn’t really be bothered waiting up for The Bells to welcome the New Year. And we’d had a small (and I do mean small) sip of single cask Penderyn to toast the passing of 2011. (I must emphasise we were both sober.)
I seriously contemplated jerking off, and got as far has giving myself an erection and having a few good strokes at it as I brushed my teeth. But my heart wasn’t in it. I wanted to be balls deep in Her pussy when I shot my load, not stood astride white porcelain.

So I didn’t masturbate.
And got into bed. But despite my grumpiness, as you know Dear Reader, I am trying to fix my marriage. So I fully intended to give Her a hug, at least for a few minutes. and not just turn away and go to sleep. I still had a hard-on, but I knew She wasn’t feeling well, so my hand was over it (settle down, I said “over it” not “wrapped around it”), so She wouldn’t be disturbed by my horniness. I could wait. Again.

And She got into bed.
Naked. Naked? Really?
This threw me. On the rare occasions She ever gets into bed naked we’re almost certainly going to have sex. I was confused.
And then She reached down across my stomach.
But wasn’t She feeling ill?
So I told Her “we don’t have to” if She had stomach ache, but She said She was fine. Wa-hooooooo!!!!! Thank I fuck I didn’t have a wank!

I wish I could talk you through the next hour thrust by thrust, Dear Reader, but quite frankly my mind was on other things, and I was not taking notes. There were, however, several points of note:

At some point during foreplay She said “You can touch my pussy.” What?!!!! If I’d been stood up my jaw would have hit the floor. And not the one I was stood on, but one at least two stories below. Firstly, only when the moon is at its bluest have I even been allowed to touch Her pussy, and I’ve certainly never been invited so to do. Secondly, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Her use the word “pussy”, or any such colloquial and (according to the OED) vulgar expression for Her genitalia. Having regained my composure, I told Her that was probably the sexiest think I’d ever heard Her say, with the possible exception of the one memorable occasion some 7 or 8 years ago when (whilst uncommonly drunk) She’d asked me to “fuck [Her] hard and deep”. She laughed and said we’d get to that later. I was starting to doubt this was my Wife.

Whilst enjoying the benefits of my new Pussy Stroking Licence, I struck me that whilst I’ve always been pretty confident about the task in hand (and have been told by more than one accomplice that a) I’m good at it, and b) I’m even better with my tongue – excuse my bragging), I have no idea how to stroke my Wife’s pussy. Not surprising when you consider I’ve never had the opportunity to learn my way around, but a lamentable situation nonetheless. I told Her of my dilemma … missing out the bits that concerned my ex-girlfriends obviously. I don’t recall Her specific response, but it certainly wasn’t negative. This was definitely not my Wife.

I can’t guarantee this, but I think we’ve only used one sex position in the last 3 1/2 yrs, that being Her-on-top.

And yes, it’s been about as adventurous as that picture implies. This time it was missionary. Boring for most people I know, and certainly it has been for me in the past. But not now. For me to be in charge of the fucking is a considerable luxury, and one I must say I relished. If nothing else it allows me to focus more on giving Her pleasure. And …

Having ground away at Her pussy till She came, it was my turn and it wasn’t long before She asked if I wanted some “visual stimulation”, ie if I wanted the lights on. Historically She’s invariably been prohibitively self-conscious when it comes to me being able to see Her while we’ve had sex. It’s been fine if I see Her getting dressed, and in the first few years we were dating it wasn’t so uncommon for us to share a bath/shower … with the lights on. But She certainly didn’t like me seeing Her when we were fucking. Add to that, for me to enjoy the sight of my cock sliding in and out of Her lovely cunt, the duvet was going to need to be thrown aside, and this is usually a recipe for disaster as She gets cold and then all the usual On Buttons turn into Off Buttons. Or more specifically, Get-Off-Me Buttons. (Purely as a matter of titillation, I should point out that as I type this I’m getting a quite considerable stiffy . And it’s great to be getting turned on thinking about my Wife for a change.) But no, She was happy for me to be able to see Her naked body, and seemed surprisingly happy for me to (quite obviously) focus on my gaze on Her pussy as I thrust my cock into Her. A truly baffling change, but again a very welcome one.

Long story short, She orgasmed, I guess, some 20min before I did. With my cock still in Her we discussed what would make me cum and the fact that my dick is more used to my hand than Her pussy. (Unprecedented frankness on both our parts.) I don’t now whether it was initially intentional, but She squeezed my shaft within Her cunt muscles [tingles down my spine], which prompted conversation about the disadvantage of Her cumming first and that She’s then not as tight when I penetrate Her. Without a specific resolution to this question, I continued to enjoy Her enjoying me enjoying Her, and eventually I emptied my balls of what must have been about 2 weeks worth of cum – both one of my most protracted periods of abstinence ever, and one of my most prolonged orgasms ever: although I stopped ejaculating after maybe only 10 or 15 seconds, my cock and pelvis continued twitching for probably more than another 3 or 4min. (Who says women’s orgasms last longer than mens?!)

Well after that, we reached for the Kleenex, turned the lights off and spooned. I continued to stoke Her affectionately , but not particularly sexually, until She wriggled a little. I expected Her to tell me to stop, but She said she was still feeling horny. I really was quite sure I’d fallen asleep and woken up in Stepford. So I took advantage of my new Pussy Stroking Licence (with added Tit Fondling Privileges) and set my sights on making Her cum again. Sadly, She got ticklish, and I had to stop, but it mattered not. We’d had had great sex. We’d communicated. And we’d had the kind of sex not only that normal couples have, but the sort of sex we’ve never really had. I was a seriously happy bunny. (And for once I do mean the vibrating kind.)

Come morning, we expected our daughter to come sneaking in around 7am. But She didn’t and my Wife announced She still felt horny. (I really had no idea who this woman was, what she had done with my Wife, or what the hell she thought she was doing tugging on my cock.) So we found ourselves contemplating having a quickie. Somehow this turned into an undisturbed 30min fuck, during which She came twice. Again, I needed a little more work done and I felt that keeping pumping away wasn’t going to get me there. So I asked if She’d “wank me”. To be fair, at that point She probably wondered who’s cock was in Her pussy as I’ve never felt comfortable enough to be that direct with Her either. But She was happy to oblige and eagerly wrapped Her fingers round my shaft and started stroking away. Without wanting to sound patronising She was doing really well, paying lots of attention to my glans, balls and perineum but I think we both wanted quicker progress and She asked what I needed. Having read Gillian‘s and A Dissolute Life Means‘s recent musings, and bolstered by my Wife’s new found sexual boldness, I said “This may be the hardest thing you’ve ever done …” (I did wonder what She thought I was going to ask, and to be fair, Gillian has recently written of the joys of sodomy, but no Dear Reader, small steps, small steps) “… but can you talk to me?” “Talk dirty?” was Her response. And whilst She conceded She didn’t really know what to say, She tried. If I was being harsh, I’d give Her 3/10 for execution, but 9/10 for effort. And for what I’m pretty sure is Her first ever attempt, I think that’s pretty good. The most important things are that She now knows I like it, and that She was prepared to give it a try. (I’m sure I saw mention of a book titled “A nice girl’s guide to talking dirty” and if She tries again and struggles, I might tentatively try to point Her towards it.) Obviously this was something that She wasn’t finding easy so we agreed it wasn’t necessary. But Her wrists, as unused to masturbation (of any kind) as they are, were getting tired and I needed Her to be a bit more forcefully with cock: a tighter grip, and faster strokes for the whole length of my shaft … and oh … oh … hmmmm … and yep, those finger nails on my scrotum … oh fuck yeah … oh so fucking gooooooood … ah, ahh, ahhhhhh … ah yes, the give away then would have been having to wipe my own cum on my face. She certainly did a good job there.

And that was how we marked both the end of 2011 and the start of 2012. WITH FUCKING GOOD SEX!!!!!

(I still don’t know who that woman really was, but I think I’ll let her stay. At least for a little while.)

I’m so excited for you!! Way to rock in the New Year. It sounds like your efforts with your wife are having big pay offs.

You brought up a great point about talking dirty. My lover does it wonderfully, but I can barely mumble out words when we’re together. I’m going to have a read and see if I can use it next time we’re together.

I can offer no real insight into what your man actually wants to hear, but my guess is if he has any porn mags or videos (that you know of, especially if he knows you know about them) they’d be a good research source for the filth he’d like from you.
Alternatively he might want you to be as pure tongued as a nun. What the hell do I know!?

You think She’s likely to want more sex? With me? Oh please please please tell that’s not so. I wanted to spend the rest of my life feeling unwanted and jerking off on my own rather than satisfying Her wanton, lustful urges twice a day.
Oh hang on. I’ve got that the wrong way round again, haven’t I?